And on the Seventh day
by Barcardivodka
Summary: Lorne had absolutely no idea how bad his week was going to be. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel, right?
1. Day One Saturday

_Disclaimer: I own Kavan Smith and therefore can do what I like with .... no wait ... I **don't** own Kavan Smith, or Stargate: Atlantis, or anything cool and interesting... well, my Mug collection is pretty awesome, and then there's my collection of ... you know what, nevermind. Anyway, this here fan fic is purely for fun._

_As always, I owe mountains of wagon wheels and other such goodies to my beta's Jayne Perry and Ferryman aka Mirth, who knowing how lazy I am, keep me on the right path AND correct all my mistooks and splelng errors!_

This story is for Mackenziesmomma in honour of St. Kavan's Day

* * *

**And on the Seventh day **

_**Day One - Saturday**_

"Parrish, damnit," Major Evan Lorne growled through gritted teeth. "Give me your hand." It was times like these that Lorne wished he had succumbed to his mothers pleas and gone to art school instead of joining the Air Force. Because never, in a thousand life times, would he have found himself precariously hanging over the edge of a cliff, holding on to an acrophobic botanist by the wrist with one hand, with the other wrapped desperately around a thorn covered trunk of a handy sapling-like growth, if he were, hopefully, a famous artist, although, right now, he'd take being a poor starving one.

"Parrish," he called again, resisting the urge to shake the man. "Parrish, give me your hand. I can't hold on for much longer," he pleaded.

But the man below him was frozen in fear. Unaware that his salvation was hanging desperately onto his wrist.

Lorne started to despair.

He couldn't pull Parrish up one handed, too much of his body overhung the cliff to allow him to let go of the sapling and use his other hand to help pull the near catatonic man up to safety. He didn't even dare let go of the sapling for the mere second it would take to active his radio to inform the rest of his team where he was. Their radio messages getting more frantic at his and Parrish's continued silence.

There was no choice.

He would have to hang on for as long as he could in the hope that his team found them before his arm went completely numb or separated from his shoulder. Before he made that last ditch desperate attempt to save Parrish by letting go of the sapling, knowing full well that he would never manoeuvre his legs into position fast enough before Parrish's dead weight and his awkward angle plunged them into the depths of the canyon below.

"Parrish, please," he begged. He gritted his teeth against the agony in his shoulder, blood roared through his ears, blocking everything else out. He screwed his eyes shut as he concentrated on ignoring the pain, in keeping his cramping hand tightly around Parrish's wrist, tightening his grip on the sapling, thorn's digging deeper.

"Just a few more minutes, Parrish. Just a few more minutes," he whispered out over and over again, the words becoming a manta.

Then the weight was gone.

"No!" Lorne cried out, his eyes snapping open, his hand letting go of the sapling as he made a frantic attempt to grab Parrish, only to grasp thin air. "Parrish!"

"Sir! Major, we've got him," a voice said above him. Lorne twisted round, suddenly aware of a tight grip on his shoulder as he looked up into the face of his 2IC.

"Baker?" he gasped out.

"Sir," Baker replied with a smile. "Parrish is okay. We've got him." He moved further away from the cliff edge, taking an unresisting Lorne with him, as a prone Parrish came into view, being tended by their fourth team member, Sergeant Meeks.

Lorne flopped onto his back, closing his eyes as relief surged through him.

"Parrish is starting to respond, but it might be best to fetch a jumper, don't think he'll make it to the gate, Sir," Baker said.

Lorne opened his eyes and nodded. "Good idea," he replied.

"Don't think you'll make it to the gate either," Baker chuckled.

Lorne gave a wry smile as he closed his eyes again. "Not so much," he agreed.

* * *

"He'll be fine, lad," Carson said again. "His responses are good. Just needs a wee bit of rest."

Lorne nodded, his eyes fixed on his hand as the nurse finished bandaging it. The thorns from the sapling having ripped and torn the tender flesh. He looked up as Carson squeezed his shoulder. "You're staying overnight too," Carson informed him with a broad smile.

Lorne frowned. "Doc, I don't ..." he started to protest, cutting his words off as Carson folded his arms across his chest and looked down at him. Lorne sighed. It was never a good thing to argue with the Chief Medical Officer. "Okay," he agreed, if somewhat sullenly.

"There's a good lad," Carson smiled. "Once Kass has finished wrapping your hand, she'll help you settle in for the night."

"Of course, Doctor," Kass replied, as she applied the last bit of tape, smiling at Lorne.

"Right then, I'll leave you in Kass' capable hands," Carson said, walking off toward his office.

"Don't worry," Kass reassured him with a smile, "it won't be that bad."

Lorne looked into the pretty face of the nurse and smiled back.

"No, "he replied. "I guess it won't."


	2. Day Two Sunday

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews :)_

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Day Two - Sunday

Lorne wondered when his common sense had deserted him. After all, you didn't get to be a Major in the American Air Force with multiple years experience at the SGC and the SGA, without having a good healthy dose of it.

Perhaps it wasn't about common sense, he idly pondered as he stared up at the bright blue sky, but more about the lack of good communications skills. The inability to make Czech scientists understand that no, really did mean no and bore no relation to 'yes, I would love to spend my day flying you to a research facility on M6T-998, because some scientist forgot to pack a heavy piece of equipment, that is, in fact, vital to the whole freakin' research mission.'

Lorne sighed, wincing as pain slashed across his chest, he closed his eyes. Or maybe it was because he was too damn nice, too approachable. Perhaps he needed to cultivate a more bad-ass persona. Colonel Sheppard wasn't the only one with a few black-op missions to his name. The kind of ops that gave you a life-time of nightmares and an eternity of wondering how you started off as a child looking up the sky in awe and excitement as a plane or helicopter flew by, to a grown man who knew a hundred different ways to kill; quickly, quietly, efficiently.

Lorne heard movement to his left. He knew he should open his eyes to verify what he already knew. But the sun was warm on his face and if he lay perfectly still, nothing hurt. Besides, right now, he really, really disliked scientists and he really didn't want to go back to Atlantis and explain to the Colonel why he had shot one, or two, possibly three or four of them in a moment of spite and weakness.

"Major Lorne?"

Lorne stifled another sigh as he felt Zelenka kneel down beside him.

"Major Lorne?"

He opened his eyes when Zelenka grabbed his wrist searching for a pulse; he turned his head slightly to look up at the scientist. "I'm fine, Doc," he said, not sure if he was reassuring Zelenka or himself. He frowned when Zelenka rolled his eyes in disbelief, but, thankfully, let go of his wrist.

"Yes, yes," Zelenka replied. "My mistake, Major. I believed you were injured. I did not realize you had decided to roly-poly down hill and spend time sun-bathing," he finished sarcastically.

"Roly-poly!" Lorne gritted out indignantly, raising himself up on his elbows. Wincing as pain pulled across his chest, and his sore shoulder from yesterday protested the sudden move. "One of your damn, idiotic scientists ..."

"Not mine, McKay's," Zelenka interrupted as he stood up. Lorne's hand twitched towards the butt of his holstered side-arm.

He held out his hand towards Zelenka, who started at it for a moment before grasping it and helping Lorne to his feet. He stood for a movement, bent over, hands on his knees, as the world swam in front of him. Grateful for Zelenka's steadying hand.

"Major, perhaps you should not have got up," Zelenka asked worriedly. "You may have ..."

"I'm fine, Doc," he repeated, straightening up and coming face to face with Zelenka starting at him with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. "I'm ..."

"Fine. Yes, I heard you the first two times," Zelenka said, annoyance tingeing his words. Lorne narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps we should get you back to Atlantis so Carson can take a look at your leg," Zelenka suggested, before walking away.

Lorne looked down at his legs with a frown. He let out a defeated sigh when he saw what Zelenka had spotted, a large tear in his uniform pant leg just above his right knee. Blood already soaking into the surrounding material.

"I really hate scientists," he muttered.

*********

Lorne lay on the infirmary bed, bare-chested and bare-legged with only his military issue underwear and a well placed blanket covering his modesty.

Zelenka had taken pity on him and had returned to lend a shoulder as they made their way slowly back up the hill. Lorne cheered himself up by snarling at the scientist who had caused his impromptu tumble down the hill, having to hide a smile when the scientist took off like a startled jack rabbit.

His good cheer quickly diminished when Zelenka wouldn't accept the word no again, insisting on bandaging his leg before allowing him to fly the jumper back to Atlantis. It was eroded completed when Zelenka had yelled 'medical emergency' the second they appeared in the gate room. Ensuring that, by the time the jumper had parked itself, a full medical team had appeared in the jumper bay and had whisked him away to the infirmary.

Where he now lay, practically butt-naked, as Carson poked and prodded him.

"Just bumps and bruises, Major," Carson declared with a smile. "Nothing broken. You're gonna be sore for a few days. Just need a few stitches in that cut," he said, his gloved hand hovering over the wound. "You'll need to take it easy for a few days."

"I can go back to my quarters tonight, Doc?" Lorne asked hopefully.

Carson nodded. "Aye lad," he agreed. "I'll get a nurse to stitch and bandage your leg and then you can go."

"Thanks, Doc," Lorne smiled.

"Try and stay out of mischief and my infirmary for a couple of days," Carson said as he turned to walk away.

Lorne had just settled back against the infirmary bed, when a nurse appeared, wheeling a medical trolley behind her.

"Hello again, Major," she smiled.

"Nurse Kass," Lorne exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face.

"What did you do to yourself this time?" she asked, running a lingering gaze over him.

"Saved an alien princess from the Pegasus version of a troll?" he joked.

"Right. I take it you lost?" she laughed.

Lorne's smile widened. "Kind of."

"What really happened?" Kass asked as she moved the trolley into position and started to clean the cut.

"Tripped over a scientist and fell down a hill," Lorne replied, his cheeks turning red.

Kass looked at him in surprise.

Lorne shrugged self-consciously. "It's true," he replied.

"I'd stick with the alien princess story," Kass said with a smile, as she picked up the needle and suture. "Won't take long, Major. Then you can head back to your quarters."

"No rush," Lorne replied.


	3. Day Three Monday

**_Day Three - Monday_**

Sergeant Meeks hit the gate room floor at speed, neatly folding his body into a forward roll and regaining his feet, all in one fluid motion. Parrish hit the floor with a thud and a pain-filled grunt.

Meeks was immediately at his side. "You alright, Doc?" he asked, hauling the scientist to his feet and moving them away from the gate. They both looked at the gate in anticipation, waiting for the rest of their team to tumble through. Their faces contorted into shock as the gate closed down.

"No!" Parrish gasped, making a move towards the gate.

Meeks looked up at the Control Room. "Chuck, what the hell happened?" he yelled out, his northern English accent thicker than usual. "Dial the planet back, now," he demanded.

"Belay that," Colonel Sheppard said, as he trotted down the control room stairs. "Sergeant Meeks, report," he ordered.

Meeks snapped to attention. "Colonel Sheppard, Sir! Doctor Parrish and myself were..."

"We have to go back," Parrish interrupted, panic evident in his voice. "The Major and Lieutenant were right behind us, they should have ..." he stopped when a hand squeezed his shoulder gently, he looked at the hand on his shoulder and then up into the face of Meeks.

"It's alright, Doc," Meeks said gently. "We never leave anyone behind. We'll find them." Meeks turned back to the Colonel and started his report.

*******

"It's a purple plant, Doc," Lorne said with a smile, handing it back, his smile widening at Parrish's look of frustration.

"Color aside, Major," he replied sternly. "This plant is very similar to others in the plantaginaceae family."

"The what family?" Meeks asked from behind them, covering the team's six.

"The plantaginaceae family," Parrish replied over his shoulder at Meeks.

"Foxgloves." Lorne suddenly said. Parrish stared at Lorne in open-mouthed shock, coming back to his senses as he stumbled and nearly fell over a wayward stone. "They grew in our garden back home. They were Mom's favorite subject to paint," Lorne explained, as he grabbed Parrish by the arm to keep him from falling.

"Thought that was a dance?" Baker said from the front of the group, several yards in front, but still within earshot.

"That's the foxtrot, Lieutenant," Parrish replied in exasperation. "Foxgloves are the plant that digitalis comes from," he tried to explain again.

"Did she tell us what, Doc?" Meeks said, deadpan, causing Lorne and Baker to laugh out loud.

"Oh, ha-ha," Parrish said, turning round and walking backwards, so that he was facing Meeks, but keeping up with Lorne. "What I'm trying to explain to those of you lacking a proper education is that, if this plant can produce digitalis, like I believe it will, then we ..." He stopped talking as Meeks suddenly stood still, Parrish felt Lorne grab the back of his tac-vest making him stop. He spun back round.

"Baker?" Lorne questioned.

"Not sure, Sir," Baker replied, letting his arm drop from the silent 'stop' signal, to grip his P90. "Thought I saw something, just up ahead, in the woods."

The Gate was a mile behind them, situated in the middle of flat grassland, no hills, no bushes, just miles and miles of grass, interceded with patches of Parrish's purple plants. The grassland gave way to a massive forest, the edge of which they now stood. The wide path they had followed from the Gate bisected the forest, but did nothing to lessen the claustrophobic feel of the dark, shadowed menace the trees seem to portray. The sun hung low in the early morning sky, so even the path was draped in shadow.

Lorne moved forward until he stood next to Baker. "Wildlife?" he asked, already knowing the answer. This was an often-visited planet, trade agreements and friendly relations firmly in place. This was a scheduled visit; the inhabitants of the planet knew they were coming, would greet them openly. Not hide in the shadows. The only problem with this particular planet was its off-kilter Gate, which made traveling through it, particularly back to Atlantis, a hell of a ride.

Baker shook his head. "No, it was a flash of green. I'm sorry, sir. It could have been anything ..." Baker never finished the sentence, he staggered back a step, a grunt escaping his lips as a spray of blood sprang from his tac-vest, the bark of a rifle echoing through the forest.

"Baker!" Lorne exclaimed grabbing the man as his knees buckled.

"Hostile's!" Meeks yelled out. Lorne swung his head up to see men clad in green uniforms moving closer to the edge of the tree line.

"Back towards the Gate," Lorne ordered. "Parrish, take Baker."

"I'm okay, Sir," Baker said, standing up. Lorne gave him a steady stare, but didn't argue. "You and Parrish, defensive line," he yelled over the rapid fire of Meeks P90, keeping the hostile's pinned down.

Parrish and Baker took off back along the path. As soon as Meeks had finished his clip, Lorne brought his P90 up and started firing, "Go!" he ordered. Meeks turned and run up the path following Baker and Parrish, ripping out the empty clip from his P90 and slamming home a new one.

As soon as the last bullet spat from his rifle, Lorne turned and followed the others. The sound of Baker's P90 taking over echoing in the air, keeping the hostile's within the tree line, even though Baker was too far away to actually hit them.

Lorne reached the rest of the team and was astonished to see several men edging out of the forest, slowly advancing. There was no cover, nowhere to hide out on the grassy plain. Lorne's team had the advantage due to superior weapons. But still, Lorne had a bad feeling.

"Who are they?" Parrish asked, echoing his thoughts.

"Suicidal or stupid, or both," Meeks replied.

"The uniform and weapons are Genii," Baker said. "But they're not Genii, half of them are carrying swords like the locals do."

"Genii stirring up an internal conflict?" Parish asked.

"Back to the Gate," Lorne ordered. "We're not expected in the town for another hour, and we're not due to report in for another six. We don't have enough ammo to hold them off."

"What the hell do they want?" Baker asked, as he pressed another field dressing against his wound.

No one had an answer. "You okay?" Lorne asked Baker.

"Yeah, it's not deep. Vest slowed it down," Baker replied.

Lorne nodded, accepting his word. "Baker, you're with me. Meeks, Parrish, defensive line."

"Reminds me a bit of the film Zulu," Meeks said, leaving the rest of his words unsaid at Lorne's sharp look.

"Ready?" Lorne asked.

With a round of nods, Parrish and Meeks left at a run, as Lorne and Baker emptied their P90's into the ground at the advancing men.

It wasn't long before the Gate came into view. Parrish ran to the DHD and started dialing as Meeks reloaded his P90**,** Lorne and Baker covering them a short distance away.

The local insurgents had continued their slow advance, quickly learning to stay out of P90 range after Lorne had been forced to order his men to shoot to wound, to stop them from gaining on them.

The Gate whooshed into life and Parrish punched in the code on his GDO. "All clear," he yelled out.

"Meeks, Parrish, go!" Lorne ordered.

Meeks gave a quick "Yes, sir." Before grabbing Parrish and running through the odd-angled Gate.

*********

"They should have been on our six, sir," Meeks said, finishing his report.

Colonel Sheppard nodded. "Dial the gate," he called up to Chuck. "See if you can establish a radio link. I want a MALP prepped and ready to go in five," he ordered as he ran up the Control Room steps, Meeks and Parrish on his heels.

Before anyone could leap into action, the Gate suddenly came to life. "Major Lorne's IDC, Colonel." Chuck confirmed.

"Drop the shield," Sheppard ordered. Seconds later, Lorne and Baker stumbled through the gate, both hitting the gate room floor with a thump.

***********

Lorne rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. He lowered his hand, looking back at Baker, laying still and quiet on the infirmary bed next to the chair Lorne was slumped in. Baker had been right, the bullet hadn't gone in too deep, but still required surgery to have it removed and the wound cleaned out. Beckett had assured the team that Baker would be out of bed by tomorrow.

Lorne shook his head and reached up to rub his eyes again. In the last three days, he had nearly lost two of his team. Parrish, because the man never looked where he was going, and quite literally walked off the edge of a cliff and to-day Baker almost died because some Genii equipped locals disagreed with the trade agreement drawn up between their leaders and Atlantis. Lorne shook his head again and lowered his hand from his eyes.

He'd lost people under his command before, but there was something about this rag-tag team of his that had wormed its way past his carefully, and long-ago built defenses. Lorne closed his eyes and slumped further back into the chair. He had sent Meeks and Parrish to their quarters to rest, knowing that neither would. Meeks was probably hunting down some food for them, while Parrish tried to find some trashy romance novels that Baker, bizarrely, loved to read. They would both be back within the hour.

The cool, smooth hand sliding down his forearm to gently curl around his wrist woke him with a start. He turned sharply in the chair, coming face to face with Nurse Kass, as she crouched down by his side.

"Hey," she greeted quietly. "You okay?"

Lorne pushed himself up straighter in the chair, running a quick hand over his face, the other still held prisoner in Kass' gentle grip.

"I'm fine," he replied. "I'm just ..." he waved his free hand at Baker.

"I know," Kass said with a smile, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "He'll be sore for a couple of days, but he'll soon heal."

"Yeah," Lorne replied. "He was lucky." Lorne added, as he turned away from Kass to look at Baker.

"A troll is no match for a giant," Kass said lightly, as she looked across at the imposing, sleeping form of Baker. At six foot six and head to toe muscle, he was very much a giant amongst men.

Lorne grinned at her. "No," he agreed with a quiet laugh. "No match."

Kass patted his arm as she stood up. "I'd better get on with my rounds," she said. "I'll pop back in a bit," she said as she walked away.

"Kass," he called after her, making her stop. "I..would .. thank you," he said with a blush.

Kass smiled and winked at him, before continuing on her way.

"So, she's the one," a voice suddenly said, causing Lorne to spin in his chair. Meeks and Parrish stood the other side of Baker's bed.

"The one what?" Lorne asked, slightly defensively.

"That lightens your heart, lifts your spirits," Parrish replied as he placed a couple of books on Bakers bedside table.

"Yeah," Meeks agreed. "You were in one of your moods earlier," Meeks air quoted the word 'moods'. "Now you're not."

"What mood?" Lorne asked gruffly.

"Your, 'I nearly lost one of my team today, I'm the leader, so it must be my fault', moods," Parrish replied.

Lorne opened his mouth to bite out a retort, but snapped it back shut when he realized that his dark thoughts of earlier had disappeared.

"You going to ask her out?" Parrish asked, as he moved a chair to the end of Baker's bed and sat down.

"What?" Lorne replied, feeling a blush rising.

"If you don't, I will," Meeks said, pulling power bars from his pockets and dumping them on Baker's legs. "She's a looker."

"You won't," Lorne growled.

Meeks and Parrish grinned.


	4. Day Four Tuesday

_Thank you so much for all your brilliant reviews. My apologies for the long delay in chapters :(_

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Day 4 - Tuesday

Lorne stretched the aches and kinks from his back and shoulders as he walked along the corridor towards the transporter. Baker had woken briefly during the night and after blinking owlishly at Meeks and Parrish playing a game of Scrabble using his legs as a table, Baker had promptly fallen back asleep.

Carson had made a sudden re-appearance just before midnight and after confirming that Baker would be released sometime the next day had shooed them out of the infirmary and back to their own quarters for the rest of the night.

Lorne had managed a couple of hours sleep before being woken by Peterson, the night-shift Control Room tech informing him of an escalating row between two military personnel in the Mess and had been unable to reach the night-shift officer. With the Colonel off world on a trade negotiation mission, it fell to Lorne to intervene.

The row ended the instant Lorne had stepped into the Mess and with a sharp, short reprimand Lorne had ordered them to report to him at oh eight hundred for punishment detail.

He was now on the hunt for the wayward night-shift officer, Lieutenant Sheen. Radio calls had gone unanswered and Lorne didn't want to put out a citywide announcement so early in the morning, particularly as he had a good idea where the young Lieutenant was. The kid was heading for a long, slow trip back to Earth, Lorne thought to himself as he stepped into the transporter, and pressed the destination screen. He lent back against the wall with a yawn, wondering if he would be able to catch another hour or two of sleep before breakfast.

The transporter doors opened and Lorne pushed away from the wall, to be met by a flood of water that quickly filled the small space, he felt a surge of panic as the water level rose, letting out a heavy breath when it leveled out at mid-thigh height.

The only illumination came from the transporter; everything beyond the doors was in complete darkness. Lorne looked down at the water lapping around his legs; even in the light, it looked dark and menacing. Lorne felt panic start to rise again and hit the destination screen to return him to the main part of the city. As soon as he hit the screen, the shutdown panel slid down, covering the screen and the lights in the transporter flickered once and then went out, plunging Lorne into darkness.

"Crap!"

**********

"Doctor Zelenka?" Peterson said into his radio, "I've received several reports of malfunctioning transporters in the last ten minutes."

_"Explain malfunctioning."_

_**"**_The transporters have been going to the wrong destinations," Peterson reported, he heard Zelenka sigh.

_"Again? Take them offline. I am coming to Control Room now."_

"Transporters offline, Doctor," Peterson confirmed.

***********

"Damn it," Lorne snapped out, letting his hand drop from his radio, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He had been forced to leave the relative safety of the transporter, the swirling dark water was bone-numbing cold and his calls to the control room had remained unanswered. There had been no other option but to try to find another way out. The lack of response from his radio calls worried him, scenarios rushed through his mind, each one rejected in turn, until only one was left. The transporter had malfunctioned somehow, dumping him in an unexplored part of the city, probably somewhere near the damaged west pier. What worried him most was that wherever he was, it was shielded in some way. It would explain why the radio wasn't transmitting, but it would also mean that he couldn't be tracked by his subcutaneous transmitter, or the city's life sign detector.

For now, he was on his own.

He carried on walking, keeping close to the wall, hoping to find the entrance to a stairwell. The cold water was already leaching the heat from his body, his legs slowly going numb. He kept one hand on the wall; he could see nothing in the oppressive darkness and cursed himself again for not grabbing his gun belt and weapon when he had received the call from Peterson. He would have the added benefit of his flashlight and knife as well.

He paused for a moment, listening, there was no sound, except for his own quiet breathing.

He continued on.

********

Baker grinned when he saw Meeks stride into the infirmary, Parrish only a few steps behind, the escape committee had arrived.

His grinned dipped as he noticed Meeks expressionless face, even his eyes seemed devoid of emotion. Meeks was a gregarious man by nature, friendly and welcoming, but as hard as nails if provoked, or full of his beloved Newcastle Brown Ale. Baker had never seen Meeks so emotionless before. Baker was already frowning when his attention turned to Parrish, the complete opposite to Meeks, the man's entire being vibrated with a myriad of emotions, worry, concern, frustration and Baker knew it wasn't directed at him. He had already flung the covers back and slid out of bed by the time Meeks and Parrish reached him.

"The Major's missing," Meeks stated the second he was face to face with Baker.

"Missing?" Baker repeated, knowing that he sounded like the proverbial parrot, but unable to stop the word from slipping out.

"Since about four thirty this morning," Parrish added, his fingers drumming against his thighs.

Baker looked at his watch; it was oh nine hundred hours. "I take it you've radioed him, checked his quarters?"

Meeks nodded. "Repeatedly. Didn't think anything of it when he didn't show at breakfast. We're not on duty till fourteen hundred, thought he was catching a few zeds."

Baker looked at his watch again. "Life signs?"

Parrish shook his head. "Except for telling us there is no one in the Major's quarters, and that everyone is inside the safe zone, it's pretty useless."

"Why do you think he's missing?" Baker asked. "His radio could be faulty. He could be anywhere in the city, the life ...."

"Statler and Waldorf were outside the Major's office this morning," Meeks interrupted, as if it explained everything.

"Statler and Waldorf?" Baker asked with a puzzled frown.

"The old guys? From the Muppets? Sit in the balcony?" Parrish queried.

"Sergeants Farmarzi and McIntyre," Meeks clarified.

Baker bought his hands up and rubbed at his temples, wondering just for a moment if he was in fact, having some bizarre drug induced dream or hallucination.

"We don't have time for this," Parrish said, and Baker wholeheartedly agreed with him.

"Okay, from the top. Why do you think Major Lorne is missing?" Baker asked. "Meeks, you first."

"The Major arranged to meet us for breakfast, when he didn't show, we weren't too concerned," Meeks replied. "I was on my way to the armory when I saw Statler ... Sergeants Farmarzi and McIntyre outside the Major's office ..."

"Peterson had to call out Lorne to deal with them," Parrish interrupted, fidgeting from foot to foot.

"At about oh four hundred," Meeks confirmed. "Told them to report to his office at oh eight hundred for punishment detail."

That's when Baker's stomach starting to churn and the certain knowledge that something was very wrong started to creep up his spine. The Major was many things; good and bad, but of the things he was highly respected for was his promptness and diligence. The Major never kept anyone waiting, particularly those waiting punishment detail.

"We need to report to Colonel Sheppard," Baker said, as he started to walk out of the infirmary.

"The Colonel and his team are off-world," Meeks replied, falling into step with Baker, Parrish following behind.

"Doctor Weir it is then," Baker stated, seemingly unaware that he was only dressed in white scrubs.

********

Lorne continued his slow trek, cautiously sliding his feet forward to make sure his path was clear before taking a step, his hand never leaving the wall. He had set himself a fast pace after leaving the transporter, which had come to an abrupt halt when he had tripped over some unseen debris and had fallen. The sound of his frantic splashing muted under the water, the darkness even more constrictive and claustrophobic. Lorne had nearly succumbed to the panic that was fighting to free itself, before managing to get his feet under him and break the surface of the water with a loud intake of air. He had waved his arms frantically in front of him, twisting and turning in the pitch black, as he sought the safety of the wall. It was sometime before he started to move forward again.

Lorne took another careful step and then another.

When he was a child, he and his cousin Petey would walk around with their eyes closed, hands held out in front of them, trying to negotiate the many obstacles of their grandfather's garden, which usually ended with bruised shins and an occasional bloody nose.

Their grandfather had been a navigator in a B-17 Flying Fortress during the Second World War. The old man had considered himself lucky to survive the horror of war, even though the last thing he ever saw was the green, brown and gold patchwork of English fields, as the broken plane hurtled past them, descending at an alarming rate until it ran out of air and crashed into a field of green. Equipment sparking and exploding, sending shards of red hot metal hurtling into the confines of the plane, tearing flesh and blinding eyes, sending their grandfather into a never-ending world of darkness, two days shy of his twentieth birthday.

Lorne and Petey had been in awe of their grandfather, the man moved with such confidence and grace, never faltering, never hesitant. Even knowing when the boys were in the same room as himself, though they had sneaked in, quiet as mice, still as statues. It had seemed like magic to two young boys. As Lorne grew older, he understood more about his grandfather's condition, and youthful awe turned into respect and admiration. He felt like that foolish child now, moving slowing, feeling his way, fearful of hitting something or falling, surrounded by inky blackness. This time though, Lorne knew he had his eyes wide open.

He took another step, and then another, unaware that the wound on his leg from the previous day had re-opened, slowly soaking blood into his pant leg, washed away by the lapping water at his thighs.

******

Elizabeth Weir was a patient woman, calm in a crisis, not given to emotional outbursts, or prone to lashing out physically or verbally. Unlike, the seemingly mild-mannered, Doctor Parrish, who was currently trying to strangle the life out of Lieutenant Sheen. Such was the doctor's fury that Sergeant Meeks and the formidable Lieutenant Baker were having trouble dragging the man off the beleaguered Sheen. Their pleas for him to stand down going unheeded, resulting in Baker wrapping his massive arms around the slender scientist's waist, as Meeks slowly peeled Parrish's fingers from Sheen's neck.

As soon as Sheen was freed, he scrambled away from the enraged doctor, who, although securely held by Baker, still valiantly tried to stomp the young Lieutenant, even though he was well out of range.

Baker gave him a rough shake. "Parrish," he snapped. "Calm down." He received a heel to his shin.

"Doctor Parrish, that's enough," Elizabeth said firmly, moving to stand in front of the scientist. "This isn't what Major Lorne would want. David, please," she said softly. "This isn't helping us find him."

Parrish stopped struggling, mortification turning his face even redder. Baker loosened his grip, placing a hand on Parrish's shoulder in support and comfort and just in case the man went off on one again.

"Doctor Weir, I'm ...I'm so sorry, I ...I," Parrish apologized, stumbling to a halt.

"Lieutenant Sheen, are you alright?" Elizabeth asked, making sure to keep herself in-between Sheen and Parrish.

"Yes, Ma'am," the Lieutenant replied, getting to his feet. No one helped him.

"I think it would be best if Doctor Beckett took a look," Elizabeth advised kindly. "Just in case."

With another "Yes, Ma'am" the Lieutenant left the control room, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"I know everyone is very worried about Major Lorne and frustrated by our lack of progress," Elizabeth said, addressing the entire room. "But I will not tolerate any more acts of violence. We need to work together to find the Major. He would not want this," she said, the last comment addressed to Parrish. "Doctor Parrish, I can't allow such an act to go unpunished, I understand ..."

"But he abandoned his post," Parrish all but yelled. "If he hadn't Lorne would ... eek!" Parrish squeaked as Baker squeezed his shoulder.

"Doctor Weir was talking," Baker said quietly.

Parrish's face reddened again, as he lowered his eyes to look at the floor.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Baker," Elizabeth said with a small smile. "Colonel Sheppard and I will be discussing Lieutenant Sheen's recent actions and what punishment is necessary, it is not for you to decide," she said firmly. "I will be reviewing your actions with Doctor McKay," she warned.

Elizabeth knew she had to act fast. The Major had been missing for several hours and everything they tried had ended in failure and frustration. Citywide calls had remained unanswered; all the life-signs on the Ancient screen had been accounted for. Radek had widened the sensor range, all to no avail. There was no sign of Lorne's subcutaneous tracker signal anywhere.

As the news spread that Lorne was missing, the military contingent had started to become restless, needing answers, wanting action. A heavy tension had descended over the city. Major Lorne was a popular leader, friendly and fair regardless of rank or nationality, who lead by example but had a core of steel few ever saw. Elizabeth sent out search parties, more to give people something to do, then with any real hope of finding the Major, with a city the size of Manhattan to search and much of it unexplored, it could take days, if not weeks to search it all. Elizabeth wasn't certain Lorne had that much time.

"Doctor Weir?" Radek said quietly, "I have an idea."

Elizabeth nodded at Radek to continue.

"We know that Major Lorne had dealt with an argument in the Mess and we have assumed that he was trying to locate Lieutenant Shane ..."

"Sheen," Parrish corrected with a growl.

"Yes, yes, "Radek said, annoyed at the interruption, "who was not answering his radio calls..."

"Radek, we know this," Elizabeth said, trying to keep the weariness from her voice. "Lorne disappeared whilst searching for the Lieutenant."

"Who said he was with Doctor Lex, in her quarters," Radek paused for a moment, when everyone continued to look at him expectantly he rolled his eyes. "Transporter! Major Lorne would have taken a transporter from the Mess to the living quarters."

"But you took the transporter system off-line," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, yes, at four thirty am."

"So the transporter took him some place other than his intended destination?" Parrish queried.

"Yes," Radek smiled.

"So where is he?" Meeks asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Radek replied. "But, the transporters were only down for about ten minutes. It was an easy fix..."

"So the Major is lost in the transporter matrix, or something?" Meeks questioned with a look of horror.

"No," Radek snapped. "The transporters have a safety feature, so that if you ..." Radek trailed off as he noticed the impatient looks. "That's not important right now. The transporter that Lorne ended up at, did not come back on-line with the others, or was already faulty."

"So the Major's trapped inside a transporter somewhere?" Baker asked.

"No," Radek said again. "Well, yes. Possibly. If the doors failed to open."

"Even if the Major is trapped inside a transporter, we should still see his life-sign," Elizabeth argued.

"Not if he is in part of the city that has sensor damage," Radek replied. "Rodney and I believe that at least .... not important now. However, his radio and subcutaneous tracker would still work. He is therefore, in a part of the city that has been shielded." Radek explained.

"Shielded? What part of the city is shielded?" Elizabeth asked with alarm.

"Oh, I don't know. It is difficult to distinguish the areas where the sensors have been damaged to those that maybe shielded. Rodney and I believe the Ancients shielded some parts of the city, certain labs that may have dealt with sub-space experimentation or possibly meeting places, it is all guess work right now," Radek said. "But although the shielding would stop radio waves and sub-space signals, the life-signs sensors would have worked."

"So, Major Lorne is possibly trapped in a transporter, in a shielded part of the city, that is also a life-sign sensor black spot," Elizabeth summarized.

"Yes," Radek nodded, bouncing on his feet.

"And this helps us, how?" she asked.

"We send out search parties in the transporters, to every destination. If they arrive at their destination, they come back, if they don't arrive ...." he trailed off.

"The transporters broken and that's where the Major is," Baker said, with a smile.

Raked smiled and nodded.

"Doctor Zelenka, you're a bloody genius!" Meeks grinned.

"I have said same thing many times," Radek replied. "Please put in writing to Doctor McKay, yes?"

*******

Tremors shook Lorne as his body battled against the cold. He gritted his teeth as he took another step, his legs numb with the cold. He had found several doorways during his long trek, some already wide open, others with gaps just wide enough for him to squeeze though. He had gone through each one in the hope of finding a stairwell. Several had led nowhere, they were small labs or rooms of some sort, others had led to what he assumed were more corridors.

Lorne knew he had to get out of the water soon, hypothermia was setting in and time was running out. All sense of direction was gone; the level was still in complete darkness, and completely silent.

Dark thoughts ran though his mind, the hope of being found and rescued growing dimmer and dimmer. The belief that the next footstep would take him out of the shielded area and he would become visible to the sensors, that is radio would work was getting harder to hold onto. His exhausted mind started to doubt that he had even been missed, that no one was looking, that no one cared.

Lorne was so lost in his dark thoughts; he failed to hear the splash of water behind, the sound of rippling water, growing louder, closer.


	5. Day Five Wednesday

Lorne shook his head, trying to clear it, his mind felt numb. He blinked into the darkness, bringing his hands up to run them through his hair, feeling his scalp. He didn't remember hitting his head, it didn't hurt, but he felt dizzy, his thoughts sluggish.

He blinked again, frowning into the blackness that surrounded him. Why was there no light? Surely, he would have brought his flashlight, his head gear, if he had gone caving. Why didn't Pete have his lights on?

"Pete" he called out hoarsely. "Pete?" Dread started to fill his gut. "Pete, quit messing around. I'm...I'm hurt." Lorne raised a hand to his head. "I think I hit my head, I must have fallen ... I ... I'm not sure..." There was a splash behind him, Lorne spun round, suddenly realizing that he was thigh deep in water. "Pete?" he cried out in panic.

Lorne took a shuddering breath, holding it as he strained to hear. Nothing, only the sound of his heart frantically beating. He let the breath out in a gasp, quickly drawing in another.

Why were the caves flooded? No river had run through the caves for thousands of years, they only filled with water... oh shit ... flash flood!

"Pete," Lorne yelled out. "Dammit, Pete! Where are you?"

Lorne surged through the water, he had no idea where he was, what direction he was going in, only a desperate need to find Pete before it was too late.

Panic took hold.

Lorne gulped in a breath and dived into the water, using his hands to search in front of him. He frantically searched under the water for his missing cousin, until his lungs burned with lack of air. He broke the surface of the water gulping in more air, before hoarsely calling for Pete again. He continued to move forward, disorientated in the darkness. He was just about to dive under the water again when he stumbled, his knees hitting something as he fell. He threw his arms out to break his fall, only to have them slap down on a ledge that was clear of water, he groped along the ledge, trying to figure out how deep and wide it was. His fingers found a side edge and touched a vertical bar; he furrowed his brow in confusion as he tried to make sense of his discovery. Railings? Steps? Stairs! He had found stairs! He wasn't quite sure why he felt an almost crushing sense of relief at the discovery, his disorientated mind only saw them as a why to get help, to find Pete.

He started to scramble up the steps, pausing when he heard a loud splash; he turned, peering back into the dark cavern. "Pete?" He took a step back down, back into the water. "Pete?" There was a sudden surge of water and something clamped down on his ankle, ripping his foot from under him, causing him to fall back against the steps as he was pulled further down. He instinctively turned and wrapped his arms around the vertical bar of the stairway rails, screaming in pain as whatever held his leg clamped down hard and tried to pull him into the cavern. He lifted his free leg and kick out again and again, yelling in pain and frustration as his mind cleared and he snapped back into reality.

*****

Baker scrubbed a hand across his face before placing his arm back on the balcony railings. He looked down at his watch, fourteen hundred hours; the Major had been missing for over a day and a half. Baker felt frustration bubble and boil deep within, threatening to overwhelm.

"Look like ants, don't they?" Meeks suddenly said from beside him, nodding at the service personal milling around the gate room below him.

Baker shot Meeks a questioning look. They were stood on the balcony between Doctor Weir's office and the control room, the gate room mere feet below them. It was filled with military personal, Captain Nicola Szczebra, current acting military commander, organising and coordinating the search parties with the calm efficiently that the military contingent had come to expect from the Polish officer.

"Not really," he replied. Meeks just shrugged. "It's taking too long," Baker added. Meeks nodded "Far too long," he replied in agreement.

After Zelenka's explanation about the transporters and that it was just a process of elimination, everyone had been eager to get moving. Zelenka had worked out a search pattern that would include all the transporters and Captain Szczebra had quickly organised search teams. The mood of the entire city was buoyant, almost festive, as teams snatched up equipment and started the search.

Two hours into the search they came across a transporter that wouldn't engage. Baker, Meeks and Parrish had lead the rescue team, unaware of a despondent Zelenka back in the control room shaking his head in despair the closer they got to the malfunctioning transporter.

It was Doctor Weir who gave them the bad news, "Lieutenant Baker, we are still reading you across the board." The area they were heading for wasn't shielded; their life-signs, subcutaneous and radios were all working. They had done a sweep of the area regardless; there was no surprise when they found no sign of the Major.

Twice more they thundered through the city when a transporter failed to engage. The last time raised diminishing hopes as the rescue teams life-signs suddenly disappeared. Szczebra had immediately sent out another team, more fully equipment. They had searched for hours, mapping out the extent of the shielded area and finding no sign of the Major. Moral hit rock bottom.

Szczebra ordered Baker and Meeks to get something to eat and rest. Doctor Weir ordering Parrish to do the same. They had unwillingly left the gate room, only to take up residency in the control room. Baker and Meeks keeping a vigilant watch from the balcony, Parrish giving silent support to an increasingly agitated Zelenka, who refused to move from the control room, snapping at those who got to close or tried to interfere. Meeks had quipped that Zelenka was channelling his inner McKay, but lost points for snarling in his native tongue, therefore ruining some of the effect.

Baker was just about to suggest to Meeks that they head back down to the gate room, when Zelenka suddenly leaped up from his chair and yelled excitedly in Czech, waving both hands at the array of equipment in front of him.

"Radek, in English," Doctor Weir requested, her voice tinged with worry. Baker wasn't sure how she had made it from her office to Zelenka before he and Meeks.

Zelenka looked at them a little wild-eyed for a moment, his hair standing out at odd angles that gave him a mad scientist look, before waving his hand at one of the laptops.

"I've found him," he repeated in English. "I've found the Major."

*********

Lorne gritted his teeth as he kicked out again knowing it was a losing battle. He was tiring, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping them locked around the stairwell railing, his leg a blaze of agony as the creature tightened its hold. Pain threatened to overwhelm him and send him into oblivion and ultimately into the belly of the beast. With a yell of frustration and despair he kicked out again, his effort rewarded as the creature gave a squeal of pain and loosened its hold. Lorne yanked his leg from the creatures grip with a sob of relief and hauled himself out of the water, scrambling up the stairs and out of the creatures reach.

Lorne kept going, dragging himself up the stairs, his body shaking with the effort as he pulled himself up the endless flight of stairs, one after the other, gritting his teeth as he rode out the waves of pain rolling up from his mangled leg, all his determination and energy focused on conquering the next step.

He failed to notice the beams of the flashlights, the thud of feet racing towards him, the frantic voices yelling out to him. He just continued to haul himself up one more step.

* * *

_Oh dear! **evil laugh** _

_Story will be completed before year's end_

_Should also point out that this chapter is unbeated as beta's tied up with enjoying christmas holiday's with their families!! Yeah, I know!! LOL ;)_

Merry Christmas Everyone.


	6. Day Six Thursday

Lorne woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat. He moved, acting on instinct, trying to get away from a danger his mind and sight had yet to establish. Hands on his shoulders stopped him from moving. He tensed, preparing to attack, when the voice became clearer, familiar.

"Ease there, Major. You're safe now."

Lorne recognized the easy burr of Carson's accent; he blinked, finally registering his surroundings. He looked up into the concerned face of the Doctor. "Carson," he croaked.

"Aye, lad," Carson confirmed with a smile, removing his hands from the Major's shoulders so he could reach for a glass of water. "Here, take a few sips," he advised, passing the glass to Lorne.

Lorne took a few sips of the cold liquid, savoring it as it soothed his dry throat, the glass starting to wobble in his grip after only a few seconds as his strength started to wane. Carson reached out and took the glass from him.

"How are you feeling?" Carson asked.

Lorne opened his mouth to reply when realization struck, his gaze flying down the bed, the outline of both legs clear to see. Lorne sagged against the pillows in relief.

"Clichéd as it may be, Major, you were very lucky, amputation was never a consideration," Carson said gently." "We were able to repair all the damage. The soft tissue damage was quite extensive I'm afraid, your lower leg will be very badly scared. However, we can discuss skin grafts and other treatments to reduce the scaring once you've healed. Your calf muscle was also damaged, but not so extensively. You should heal without any permanent disability. But it will be a long process," Carson warned, "you will be on crutches for several weeks."

"Thanks, Doc," Lorne said with a relieved smile.

"No thanks necessary, Major," Carson replied. "Just be grateful wee Evan didn't have sharper teeth."

"Wee Evan?" Lorne asked in bemusement.

"The beastie. Meeks called him Evan," Carson replied with a chuckle.

"He named it after me? Why the ..."Lorne paused. "They went after it? They went after the damn thing in the pitch black, in a flooded part ...."

"Major!" Baker boomed out as he rounded the corner. "You're awake! Hey, he's awake," he called over his shoulder as he moved towards Lorne's bed, quickly followed by Meeks and Parrish.

"You went after that thing?" Lorne asked them angrily, the smiles of relief and happiness falling from their faces.

"We went to kill it, yes," Baker confirmed.

"But the Xena guy's won't let us," Meeks added. "Said it was an important discovery, wanted to go down there and catch it.

"Xena?" Lorne queried with a frown, running a hand through his hair.

"Xeno," Parrish clarified. "Doctor Stroud is a xenobiologist and Doctor Polyak is a zoologist, they believe the creature may be indigenous to the planet, and was somehow trapped when we raised the city. However," Parrish said with a waggle of his index finger. "Doctor Harding, she's a geneticist," he explained. "Her theory is that the Ancients were experimenting in some form of gene therapy or possible cloning…."

"The short version is, Sir," Baker interrupted, "that Doctor Weir won't let anyone go back there."

"Doctor Z's seeing if he can remotely restore power and the life-signs detectors," Meeks continued, "but Doctor Weir doesn't want anyone venturing down there until we can get the radios to work."

"Give Radek bragging rights if he can get the systems up and running before Rodney gets back," Carson said with a smile.

"Although, we get naming rights," Meeks said.

"You've already named it," Lorne replied, his anger fading away with the knowledge that no-one had risked their lives trying to extract revenge on his behalf.

Meeks looked at Lorne with a puzzled frown.

"I hear you called the beast Evan," Lorne explained with a sour expression.

"Oh, no, Sir, that's its pet name," Meeks replied. "I mean we get to name the species. I was thinking of, Lorneasurus." Meeks said with a grin.

"How about, Meeksasurus, and changing its name to Geoff," Lorne suggested.

"Liking it, Sir," Meeks said with a nod. "Fancy having a new life form named after me," he added with a grin.

"Perfect name for a monster," Parrish said dryly. "Geoff the Meeksasurus!"

While the others laughed, Carson noticed that Lorne had slumped back even further into the pillows, lines of pain marring his pale face as he attempted to chuckle along with the others.

"Right gentlemen," Carson called," time for the Major to get some rest." He held his hand up to forestall any protest." You can come back later, in fact, you can all have dinner together," Carson offered magnanimously.

They left, somewhat reluctantly, with promises to bring back various goodies and hard to find movies.

"I'll get you some pain relief," Carson said to Lorne after the others had left, "be right back."

Lorne watched as Carson walked towards the other end of the infirmary, noticing a nurse heading in the other direction.

"Nurse Kass," he called.

"Major, how are you feeling?" Kass asked as she walked to the side of the bed.

"Is that part of your medical training?" Lorne asked with a grin, "to always ask how a patient is feeling?

Kass smiled. "More of a habit," she replied. "But I was really worried about you," she confessed. "Just making sure you really are okay."

"I'm fine," Lorne said, looking abashed as Kass raised her eyebrows. "Okay, I will be fine," he amended. "Especially if you agree to go out on a date with me," he asked in a rush.

Kass gave a delighted smile. "I would love to, Major. When do you have in mind?"

"Oh, well, I ...um … I should be up and about in a few days, so how about ...I ..." Lorne stumbled to a stop as Kass bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

"Tomorrow is fine," she stated. "I've got the morning shift, so we can have dinner together. I'll see you at six," she said, as she turned and walked away with a smile and a wave.

Lorne stared after her, a smile spreading across his face.


	7. Day Seven Friday

"No!"

"Oh, come on, Doc," Lorne pleaded. "I can't go looking like this," he argued, plucking at the scrubs top he was wearing.

"You're not going anywhere anyway, so it's a moot point," Carson stated folding his arms across his chest.

"Carson, I've got a date," Lorne said in desperation.

"Evan, lad, I know," Carson said gently, unfolding his arms and reaching out to squeeze Lorne's shoulders. "Kass is one of my best nurses, she's well aware of your injury. She'll no be expecting you to do the Fandango."

Lorne's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I should cancel," he said quietly. "Wait until I'm healed."

"That's a low opinion you have of young Kass," Carson said, his voice tinged with disapproval.

Lorne frowned up at Carson. "A low opinion? Why would rescheduling our date mean I have a low opinion of her?" He asked.

"To think that she would only go out with you whole and hearty," Carson replied. "Or perhaps it's you, that has such a low opinion of themselves," Carson added sagely.

"It's nothing to do with that, Doc," Lorne said with a sigh. "I just ... I just want to make a good impression, that's all. I want her to like me," Lorne rolled his eyes in disbelief as the words left his mouth. "Now I sound like a girl!" He said with a huff of a chuckle.

Carson turned and pulled up a chair, sitting down so that he was now eye-level to Lorne. "Evan, Kass already likes you," he said with a smile. "Look, it's been a tough week for you," Carson said. "You nearly lost two members of your team. You spent over a day and half wandering around in the pitch black in near-freezing water, attacked by some mysterious beastie and spent six hours in surgery. You're exhausted, lad. You don't have the strength to use crutches right now and the risk of infection is still too great." Carson shook his head. "Kass understands all this, better than you do. It might not be what you imagined to be your ideal first date, but just relax and enjoy it. Take every opportunity to find happiness, Evan, they are rarer than you think." Carson stood up, and with a friendly pat to Lorne's shoulder turned and walked away, leaving Lorne to his thoughts.

*********

"That was great," Lorne said as he swallowed the last of his meal.

"Mac and cheese seemed the safest choice," Kass said, "the mystery meat stew looked awful," she chuckled.

"Usually wise to avoid anything that starts with "mystery meat"", Lorne smiled, air quoting the last two words.

"How about some desert?" Kass asked, pulling out two snicker bars from under the napkin on her tray.

"Snickers!" Lorne exclaimed, successfully grabbing one from Kass. "Where did you get these from?" Lorne asked as he gazed down at the candy bar in awe.

"Well, I could tell you," Kass replied with a smile, "but then …"

"You'd have to kill me," Lorne laughed as he finished the sentence.

"So, what movie did you manage to get hold off," Kass asked, as she started to unwrap the snickers bar.

"Oh, I didn't know what kind of movie you might like," Lorne said in a rush, his cheeks coloring," so I went with one my favorites, The Princess Bride," he finished with a grimace.

"The Princess Bride!" Kass nearly squealed. "You have it? You have the Princess Bride? Oh my God, this is perfect," she said in glee.

Lorne smiled broadly as he moved the laptop from the cabinet to the table over the bed. "I nearly went with Mad Max," he confessed.

"Budge up then," Kass said, as she joined Lorne on the bed, her head leaning against his shoulder. "I can see the laptop better from here," she explained, as she laid her hand against Lorne's chest.

Lorne moved his arm, bringing it behind Kass' head and laying his hand on her shoulder, moving her closer "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

Kass gave a delighted smile.

* * *

_And that as they say, is that! LOL_

_Thank you to all those who stuck with it, in spite of the long delays and many thanks to all the beautiful reviews._

_This is my last story under the guise of Barcardicider, but do not fear, I will return!_


End file.
